Richard Valeriote and his wife, Polly Valeriote, BA’53 (right), with MAA past president Morna Flood Consedine (centre)
Nicolas Morin

To help mark its 150th anniversary, the McGill Alumni Association held a contest, inviting graduates to submit some of their most memorable McGill moments. Well, our grads are always up for a challenge, and the stories poured in from all over the world. The grand prize winner, Dr. Richard Valeriote, from Fairfield, California, earned a trip to Montreal to attend McGill's Homecoming festivities. We're pleased to share Dr. Valeriote's winning entry below and invite readers to visit www.alumni.mcgill.ca/sites/alumni150 to sample some of the other McGill memories—some of them touching, some of them funny — that our graduates shared with us.

My journey through medical school had been difficult. I frequently hitchhiked home to Guelph, Ontario, and approached business owners and family friends for loans so I could continue my studies. At the end of my second year, I was diagnosed with tuberculosis and had to enter a sanitarium for a year, while my wife Polly (whom I met at McGill) and our two young daughters moved in with my mother. Once I was back on my feet and reunited with Polly, the last two years of medical school passed quickly. In final year, we were seeing real people with real illnesses, and the courses we had taken in bacteriology, pathology, medicine, etc., were coming to fruition in the manifestation of various diseases in our patients.

By now, having procured enough money to get through three or four months, I was able to study hard, but I needed a bit more to finish the year. One day, there came a rap on the door.

"Are you Richard Valeriote?" inquired a voice.

"Yes," I replied. "How can I help you?"

He took out an envelope and gave me a cheque, explaining that Mr. John W. McConnell, who owned the Montreal Star and who had been a benefactor of McGill University for many years, inquired of the student counsellor if he knew a deserving student. Reverend Knowles had told him of my coming from a family of 16 children, and that I was married with young children. He said that I had won hands down. This was a gift, not to be repaid, he said.

One cold, wintry morning, Polly and I went to St. Patrick's Cathedral for Sunday mass. The priest told of the poverty of many people in the South Pacific. The words I remember most were "No matter how bad off you think you are, there are people who are much worse off, who barely have enough to eat. You have a moral obligation to help them. Give and it shall be returned to you a hundredfold."

I nudged Polly and inquired, "How much should we give?" She said, "Are you kidding? We only have $100 to our name in the bank." So I wrote out a cheque for $4 and put it in the collection basket.

The next morning someone appeared at our door. He said he was from McGill and gave me an envelope. I opened it and found a cheque for $400. "What is this for?" I said. The fellow explained that a little boy had drowned in the water-filled excavation of a hospital under construction. The parents had set up a scholarship in his name for a student deemed a worthy recipient by the University. Once more, Reverend Knowles came to my assistance and directed the cheque to me.

I remarked to Polly, "You know, I gave $4 in church yesterday, and it came back a hundredfold. I never believed this would happen." Polly said, "You should have given $10, not $4!" We both laughed and celebrated our good fortune.

Final exams followed soon after. Medical school graduation was a high point in my life. My parents and Polly's both attended, and I am sure that they were glad to see the end of this long struggle.